


just a lost boy, ready to be found

by aliaaaaaa



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 11:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7101052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaaaaaa/pseuds/aliaaaaaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Web came back from his lectures – expecting Lieb to wait for him with dinner because it was his turn to cook – all he found on the small table was a scrap of paper, with Lieb’s messy scrawl on it.</p><p>
  <i>I’m sorry I have to leave like this. But I have to go and search for something. It’s not your fault. I promise I’ll be back. I love you, never forget that.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	just a lost boy, ready to be found

**Author's Note:**

> I miss writing somewhat sad post-war Webgott and this happens.

After 9 days, it has become a habit for Web to wait by the telephone, because it always rings exactly at 1 in the morning.

When Web picks up the receiver, and presses it close to his ear, he hears the the crackling static before a familiar voice echoes through the line.

_Web._

(It started 10 days ago, when Lieb suddenly disappeared from the apartment that they shared.

When Web came back from his lectures – expecting Lieb to wait for him with dinner because it was his turn to cook – all he found on the small table was a scrap of paper, with Lieb’s messy scrawl on it.

_I’m sorry I have to leave like this. But I have to go and search for something. It’s not your fault. I promise I’ll be back. I love you, never forget that._

He knew it would happen, and he thought he was prepared for it if Lieb decided to leave, but God, the hurt and the betrayal he felt that night was too strong that he punched through the glass cabinet with his fist; blood dripping from his split knuckles to all over the wood floor.)

“Lieb,” Web answers, his quiet voice resonates loudly in the too empty apartment.

(When they came back from the war, they struggled to find their place in the newly liberated world.

Lieb had nowhere to go, no place to call home anymore because Frisco was a lifetime ago, belonged to another man with his soul still whole.

He followed Web back to New York, and with whatever money they had, they rented an apartment in the outskirt of the city.

Web threw himself into his study, working diligently to finish up his degree, eager to get out from Harvard and from East Coast as soon as he could.

But Lieb–

–Lieb struggled the most with the weight of guilt he had been carrying since Landsberg; all the lives he had took, all the lives he couldn’t save.

It festered inside of him.

It ate him whole.

It dragged him down to a place that even Web couldn’t reach out to save him.)

_Still awake?_

“You know I couldn’t sleep without talking to you first,” Web replies softly, cradling the receiver in between his shoulder and ear closer, trying to pick up the background noise.

Some nights he hears the faint sound of a busy street over the loud static.

Other nights he hears the comforting sound of the waves lapping gently against each other in the background.

Those nights are his favorite, because Lieb once told him, the ocean reminds him of Web and being near it feels like being near him.

When Web can’t pick up any sound, he asks, “Where are you?”

_In a cheap motel. I splurged a bit today ‘cause it’s raining._

He looks out of the window, the night sky is so clear he can see the stars and the urge to tell Lieb to come home surges up so suddenly that he has to lean against the wall to steady himself.

(The first night after Lieb left, Web didn’t sleep.

He stayed up and looked out of the window, watching every man and woman passed by quickly, eager to go somewhere safe.

He waited and waited and waited, smoking his pack of cigarettes until he could taste ashes on his teeth; until the sun shone brightly through the thin curtains.

But Lieb didn’t return.

He skipped his classes.

He drank coffee without eating anything.

He waited.

He waited.

He waited.

Until he fell asleep on the couch.

And then the phone rang.

When he looked at the clock, it was 1 in the morning.)

“Are you okay? Where are you?” He can’t hide the worry from his voice.

_I’m fine, Web. Don’t worry about me._

“I always worry,” Web whispers into the receiver, his chest feels tight from missing Lieb, wanting to touch him, to see if he’s okay, to feel warm skin underneath his calloused fingers.

_I know but I’m okay, I promise._

Web exhales noisily, gulping his frustration down.

(When the phone rang and rang, Web relived the sharp sensation of bullet piercing through his calf.

It was what he felt when the phone kept ringing, hundred of bad scenarios playing inside his mind; all of them ended with someone calling him to tell him that Lieb was found dead somewhere in a ditch.

When he picked up the receiver after the fifth ring and heard Lieb’s tired voice over the crackling static, he broke down and cried.)

“Where are you?” He asks again, his voice wavering.

It takes a while for Lieb to answer, and for one moment Web thinks Lieb hungs up on him, but then he answers.

_Somewhere._

“Somewhere close?”

Web hears Lieb chuckles slightly.

_Closer than yesterday._

(“Come home, Lieb. Please. I’m worried about you,” Web pleaded over the receiver, gulping down his sob and pressing his palm against his eyes.

_I can’t come home yet, Web. I need to go away for a bit. I need to clear my head. I need to find something._

The heaviness in Lieb’s voice made Web stop asking him to come home the next time he called, but the words were always there, stuck inside his throat, ready to jump out.)

_I miss you._

Web closes his eyes, and slides himself down to sit on the floor. “I miss you too.”

_I miss sleeping next to you._

Web inhales shakily, gnawing the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying.

_I miss holding you._

He feels his chest caught and released simultaneously, making him gasp out Lieb’s name.

_I miss looking at your face and touching you and kissing you and just… Be near you._

“Then come home.” The words are out before Web can stop it and it feels both liberating and terrifying.

Liberating because he doesn’t have to hide his worry anymore.

Terrifying because he is afraid Lieb will run far away from him.

“Come home to me.”

Web hears the sharp intake of breath.

Then the line goes dead.

*

He waits by the phone again the next night, just like what he has done for the past 10 days.

Only tonight he sits on the floor, gnawing his lower lip, mentally cursing himself for letting the words escape from his mouth.

(He couldn’t sleep a wink last night after Lieb hung up on him and ended up missing his classes again.)

It is a selfish request to ask from Lieb but he worries and the more time they spend apart, the more he feels like he’s breaking down because the one person who keeps David Webster intact is Joseph Liebgott and without him, Web is fraying at the edges, about to break down.

When 1 o’clock passes and the telephone doesn’t ring, Web is ready to punch the wall, his split knuckles be damned but he sits still, waiting for the phone to ring.

2 o’clock.

3 o’clock.

He waits and waits and waits.

Then he hears soft footsteps echoing from the carpeted hallway; feels his heart beating fast all too suddenly.

He shuts his eyes firmer, telling himself to stop hoping.

There’s no way.

There’s no way.

_There’s no way._

When he hears the keys jingling and the door opens and closes with a quiet click, he looks up.

In the dimness of the light, Web sees Lieb standing in front of him – a duffel bag slings casually over his shoulder – his tired face hovering above Web; his hair flopping over his forehead, his brown eyes soft and inviting and his lips smiling gently as he murmurs, “I’m home.”

Web lunges up too fast that he knocks both of them against the door hard, making it rattles loudly and their neighbors might be pissed off with them for making loud noises but he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care because Lieb is here in their home, in his arms and he is okay and alive and real.

And Lieb is wrapping his skinny arms around Web just as tightly; pressing his cold face on Web’s neck, and pressing his lips on the warm flesh as he murmurs, “I’m home, I’m home, I’m home.” over and over.

*

(Later, when they’re on their soft bed, holding each other, pressing their bodies closer; Web will ask, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Lieb will shift his body to press a soft kiss on Web’s lips, swallowing the soft sigh into his mouth; their dog tags clinking against each other.

When he pulls away, hovering over Web slightly, his warm palm over Web’s chest, feeling the heart beating calmly; Lieb will answer, “It was here all along.”)

**Author's Note:**

> first posted on [webgottrash](http://webgottrash.tumblr.com/post/145458520012/im-just-a-lost-boy-ready-to-be-found)


End file.
